


Memory Circuits

by alba17



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Parents & Children, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie's fascination with Maggie's phone precipitates a confession. Takes place a few years before the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory Circuits

**Author's Note:**

> Written for mustbethursday3's request for Maggie fic.

"What's that?"

"Nothing." Maggie shoves the phone into her bag. She doesn't want Charlie to see it, wasn't even aware she was holding it. Habit, she guesses.

Charlie's wide-eyed blue gaze is heavy upon her. Maggie looks away. "Why don't you call your brother in? It's time to get ready for dinner."

A resentful glance, then Charlie replies. "Sure." Then she bounds outside on coltish legs, letting the door swing shut with a bang on the way out. Soon she'll be a teenager. Maggie can't imagine knowing nothing but life after the blackout. She shivers, her hand reaching once again for the phone. For a moment she clings to it. The image comes unbidden. Her boys. Her thumb swipes across the slick black surface, as if she could will the dead circuitry back to life. With a sigh, she hides it in her bag and turns to the kitchen.

*  
Later, after dinner, she finds Charlie sitting on her bed with the pink phone, examining it by the candlelight like an alien artifact. Maggie has to remind herself that to Charlie, that's exactly what it is. She's too young to remember much of life before, probably can’t even imagine what the phone can do. Or used to be able to do.

Maggie sits down next to her. She’d like to feel closer to Charlie but she knows she can’t force it. Charlie’s at a difficult age. Something about the waning daylight must bring out a confessional urge though, because suddenly she’s blurting out, "I once had my own family." She takes the phone gently from Charlie's hand. It makes her uncomfortable to see it in someone else’s hands. "Before."

Charlie looks at her with curiosity. "You did?"

Maggie nods. "Two boys." She caresses the blank face of the phone as if to conjure them out of thin air. She hasn't spoken of them for such a long time. The effort makes her breath quiver in her throat. "They're in England. I couldn't get to them." She puts a hand on Charlie's shoulder, her physical presence a comfort. "I tried. Oh believe me, I tried. But it was impossible."

She sweeps away the threatening despair by briskly getting to her feet. "But enough about that. You need to get to bed. And don't go poking into my things without my permission." She softens her words with a smile, but suspects Charlie will throw her words back at her later. They haven't had the best relationship. But Maggie can't let Charlie think it's okay to rifle through her stuff.

"You must miss them," Charlie says, refusing to let go of the topic, surprisingly sympathetic. She tucks a hank of honey blonde hair behind her ear. It’s grown so long the last year.

Her older son would be about Charlie’s age, Maggie thinks. Growing into manhood. She wonders what he looks like now. The thought tugs at her heart but she refuses to sink into sadness. This is why she doesn't talk about them. "Yes, I do." She pats the bed uselessly. The light's completely gone from the sky outside, she notices. "I'll send your dad in to say good night. You brush your teeth?"

Charlie rolls her eyes. "Of course."

It's hard not to play the part of Charlie's mom, even though Maggie knows Charlie resents it. It's just there's a mile-wide hole in Maggie’s heart and she has to try to fill it somehow. For Ben, if not for herself.

Charlie climbs under the sheets. “Will you tell me about them some time?”

Maggie’s fingers tighten around the phone. "Alright, if you’d like.” She blows the candle out. “Well, good night then."

"Night."

Maggie hesitates in the door, hearing the small snuffling sounds of Charlie settling into bed, dusky light from the window a dim square on the floor. "Sleep tight," she says softly.


End file.
